


The Door

by whizkyfever



Category: Original Work
Genre: Horror, Monsters, Night Terrors, Psychological Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-26 03:35:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19759768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whizkyfever/pseuds/whizkyfever
Summary: Stick to the plan. Make it to the morning.





	The Door

The door. Check if the door is locked. You don’t want anything to come in, do you? Then, check the windows. Close the curtains. It’s nightime and you are alone. You wouldn’t want anything to come in. Have you checked the back door yet? I bet you din’t. Go check it. Turn on all the lights, they can’t get you if you can see them. Right? Doesn’t matter now, just stick to the plan and maybe you’ll make it to the morning. 

Be quiet when you walk upstairs, you don’t want to wake up whatever is living underneath it. Remember, no matter what you hear, how many cutting screams or shivery cries, never look back. You have the chance of losing your eyes if you do so. Keep walking, don’t look back. You may hear footsteps matching your own. Convince yourself you’re crazy and ignore them. You’re just hearing things again, silly. Maybe they will call the doctors on you, so they can cut your head and remove the damage. 

No, don’t be scared. The nurses sayed it would only hurt a bit. 

When you get to your room, close the door quickly. You’ll hear something scratching the wood. Ignore that too. Careful when you walk to your bed, there’s snakes crawling still. Spiders on the walls. Cockroaches on your bed. 

When you lay down, don’t keep your eyes open for too long. You’ll hear sounds. She’ll talk to you and ask for help. Don’t help, don’t answer, don’t open your eyes under any circunstances. That thing calling is not a little girl, not anymore. If you listen closelly, your wardrobe is opening. There’s something crawling out of it, and you don’t want to look at it. 

The thing under the stairs is awake, you can hear it coming up. It’s coming to get you. The dreams don’t lie, sweetie. You’ve seen what they will do. What they are. Just let yourself fade, into somewhere where they can’t get you. Dream. Dream, but not with angel cake and silk. Dream of the thing in the basement, that is twisting and spinning like a freaky ballerina. It’s cold down there, freezing cold, so cold you can feel it in your bones. Feel them grinding against your skin. Listen to the hiss, beneath your feet. Now it’s up your spine. Now it’s wrapping itself around your ribs. Im sure you can feel it feeding, from your flesh, from your heart. Is it making you weak? Scared? Are you goinng to run away? 

Wake up. It’s the morning. You made it. 

The thing is still there. Hiding. Under the stairs, on the basement, on the hallway, inside you, living in your lungs, choking you slightly. You will ignore it and stick to the plan. Maybe you’ll make it to tomorrow. 

But for how long?


End file.
